


Reunion

by DreamingMoonlight



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Is A Mess, Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 09:09:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10487280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingMoonlight/pseuds/DreamingMoonlight
Summary: It's been a year since Obi-Wan was held hostage.  A year since Anakin had last seen him.  A year since it was supposed to have been Anakin who was in his place.  And now Obi-Wan has finally come home.Anakin had thought about their reunion a thousand times.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilyconrad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyconrad/gifts).



> From [lilyconrad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyconrad/pseuds/lilyconrad), who was kind enough to give me a prompt that just sang to me: Obi-Wan and Anakin get caught by some enemy and the deal is Anakin will stay behind as a hostage while Obi-Wan is released as a sign of good faith but of course at the last minute Obi-Wan negotiates with the enemy for him to be the one kept behind. It's months or a year before Obi-Wan is rescued/released and Anakin is waiting for him when the ship brings him back, relieved and angry and way out of balance from being alone all that time without him.
> 
> This... then got away from me, a bit!

Anakin had thought about this moment a thousand times.

A thousand different ways to tell Obi-Wan how much he'd missed him.

A thousand different ways to tell Obi-Wan how angry Anakin had been when he'd suddenly found himself on the escape pod instead of Obi-Wan, floating in space with only a weak signal for help, when it was supposed to have been _him_ , he was the one who was supposed to stay behind. Obi-Wan had switched them at the last moment, only a brief, too short apology before he was hauled away by the pirates and Anakin was tumbling out into space. He'd slammed his fists so hard against the transparisteel window that it nearly had cracked under his metal arm and he'd screamed in terror and rage both.

He'd imagined a thousand ways to justifiably vent every moment of that anger at Obi-Wan, who had had _no_ right. He'd imagined a thousand ways to tell Obi-Wan just how much it had cost him, how sick with worry and fear he'd been for the entire year, how it had eaten away at his relationship with Padme, until there was only tattered threads left between them now, how it had stolen every bit of Jedi calm Anakin had scraped together in his life.

He'd imagined the moment that Obi-Wan stepped off the ship that he would punch him right in the face--guilt and shame roiling together in his stomach at that thought when it wouldn't leave his head.

For every way he'd imagined their reunion coming with the angry, bitter words that haunted him, so too did Anakin imagine a more sorrowful reunion.

Imagined that Obi-Wan had been tortured for long months (and how could Anakin even _think_ of being angry at him, when no one knew what he'd suffered?) and would only be a shell of what he'd been.

He didn't have to imagine the terror that sliced through him at the thought of facing such an eventuality, it was now his constant companion. Terror that Obi-Wan would blame him, that Obi-Wan wouldn't be who he'd been before, that he hadn't just left Anakin for that year, that endless, unknowable year, when he didn't know when or if it would ever end, but that he'd left Anakin forever.

He could always feel that Obi-Wan was still alive, the thin thread between them always glimmering in the back of his mind. He'd have _known_ if Obi-Wan were dead--even the High Council trusted him to know this.

But the fear that Obi-Wan wouldn't want him anymore, had only ever wanted him when he had the patience to tolerate Anakin at the best of times, had run unchecked for every moment that Obi-Wan had been gone.

Anakin had imagined a thousand ways that he could have done what his heart cried out to do--fling himself into his Master's arms--he would never be Anakin's former Master, never, never, never, especially not _now_ , not after all this--and cry out that he was sorry.

But would Obi-Wan have accepted it? He didn't know. He imagined a thousand reactions but nothing ever stayed, nothing ever felt right, nothing was _sure_.

He stood on the edge of the hangar landing bay, watching with pinpoint focus as the shuttle carrying Obi-Wan slowed to a gentle stop. He held himself absolutely still, he was only here on the promise that he wouldn't lose control (again, again, again), that he could maintain focus long enough to not further harm Obi-Wan, whatever state he was in. It was torture, he wanted to run to the shuttle, wanted to claw the door open, wanted to see Obi-Wan, just wanted to _know_.

And when Obi-Wan finally stepped out from the shuttle, it was like the world fell away and nothing made sense.

Of all the things Anakin had imagined, seeing Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi in perfect health, like he'd simply returned from a regular mission, had not been it.

Obi-Wan's gaze slid across the small group of Jedi there to greet him, landing on Anakin with a flash of something in his eyes, a twist of something to his mouth, but it was smoothed away and gone before Anakin could say what it was.

Anakin was rooted to the spot, unable to do more than faintly tremble with all that roiled in him, barely able to contain the storm of it when he wanted to just let go.

Even Obi-Wan's smooth, easy gate was unchanged. He had a wry smile for everyone, he held himself exactly as far away from them as he always had, the touches to his arm were tolerated with just as much patience as he always had, he felt rounded and clean in the Force.

Had _nothing_ happened to him? Had Anakin been the only one who suffered, torturing himself with every horrible possibility he could possibly think of?

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Luminara glance at him with gentle concern--for him or for Obi-Wan, who would have to suffer his feelings lashing out in the Force, Anakin didn't know--but she said nothing, not even a soft touch to his arm, like she'd done so many times over the last year.

Anakin didn't care. He almost wished she would just so he could angrily twitch her away from him.

But she stayed silent and serene at his side, only a reminder not to lose control (again), to remind him of all the times he'd destroyed a healing room in a fit of rage or he'd refused to drag himself out of bed because he couldn't face the rest of the galaxy again.

And then, suddenly, Obi-Wan was in front of him, even healthier looking up close than he'd been from afar. If there were shadows in his eyes, Anakin could only have been imagining them.

His touch was less gentle than Luminara's had been, warmer and rougher than any Anakin had felt in that long year, his thumb stroking briefly across the line of Anakin's jaw before it was gone again. "Anakin."

It was too much, it was always too much. "Master, I--"

He what? Anakin didn't know. Wanted every one of those thousand imaginings back, at least those he maybe knew what to do with. This, he had no idea.

"Soon, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, the name so familiar in his Master's voice that Anakin could have broken from that alone.

Instead, he could only bow his head and pretend he wasn't chasing after the fleeting touch of his Master's hand falling away.

*

Afterwards, Anakin still reeling from nothing being as it was supposed to, their small group wound their way through the long, twisting halls of the Jedi Temple. They stopped rarely, only Master Plo and Master Yoda daring to halt their trek to the Halls of Healing, but each one felt like an eternity. Every moment Obi-Wan spent reassuring everyone that he had returned in 'reasonably decent condition' with that same, familiar wry smile of his, it was one less moment that Anakin had to ask him what had happened, to truly _know_ if his Master was all right under this placid, calm surface of his.

(Guilt and shame continued to wash over him like a tidal wave. He shouldn't be so selfish! Obi-Wan had been held hostage for a _year_ and Anakin's only thoughts were of himself? Of what _he_ wanted to know? He berated himself and tried to push it all away, to be the Jedi that they'd taught him to be, over and over, but every moment he almost resurfaced from this raging ocean of emotion, another wave crashed over him and subsumed him again.

It didn't matter that Obi-Wan kept glancing at him, he always turned away from Anakin again, back to whoever else had caught his attention this time.

Hot shame flushed through him each time, that he was so pathetic as to be little better than a mynock latching onto the hull of a starship and eating away at it. No wonder his Master wanted nothing to do with him.)

It was even longer in the healing ward, each new test another eternity, each one a spike of fear and adrenaline that shot through him, what could be wrong, what would they find, there was always something that _could_ be wrong, what was hidden beneath the seemingly perfect health, surely _something_ had to go wrong, Anakin could feel it, there was always something to go wrong, until he was worn thin and ragged.

And yet still he only followed Obi-Wan quietly, wherever he went. The promise of, "Soon, Anakin." in his head keeping him like a baby Nuna hopping after its mother.

And yet still each step only fed something in him, something dark and growing and hateful. Something that had his fist clenched at his side and his Master's gaze on him, calm and sharp and Anakin could feel the weight of disapproval in it, but still could only think of how he'd suffered for an entire year and Obi-Wan wasn't harmed at all, he was just the same as ever, like none of it had ever happened.

Nothing that Anakin had struggled through or nearly drowned in had even _mattered_.

*

The moment the door closed behind him, Obi-Wan's quarters so familiar in the dark to Anakin, who had spent more time here than in his own, after Obi-Wan had been gone, so impossible to make him stay anywhere but here that even Master Plo had given up trying to encourage him back to his own room, just let Anakin stay curled up in his Master's bed, trying desperately to find that thread still connecting them, to see if his Master was hurt, was suffering, was still alive-- the moment the door closed behind him, Obi-Wan seemed to straighten his shoulders even more and gestured to one of the meditation chairs lining the windows.

"Sit down, Anakin," he said, almost gently, like it was taking every ounce of patience he had to deal with this.

He wasn't sure if he disobeyed out of anger or simply because he couldn't move. "Master-- Obi-Wan-- I-- Master, what _happened_ to you? Why did you--"

"You're angry," Obi-Wan said. Like he _expected_ Anakin to be angry, because Anakin was always angry, so unfairly angry, so un-Jedi and angry, so much a failure as Obi-Wan's student. "You need to let go of that. Everything is fine, Anakin."

His name again. The most he'd heard Obi-Wan say directly to him, his name over and over, like he was a wild animal to be coaxed into not biting! "Tell me what happened!"

Obi-Wan's gaze was unyielding on him, almost cold and distant now. How could he? They'd been separated for so long, yet Obi-Wan gave no indication that anything was amiss, nothing wrong with them at all!

"Sit down, Anakin." This time not a command to be ignored. So Anakin sat, but his hands were still fists on his knees, his own gaze still wild and desperate and suddenly he just didn't care.

"How can you act like nothing's wrong!?"

Everything was wrong! Everything about this was entirely and completely wrong and Anakin wanted to scream for it, to break and shatter this calm that wasn't supposed to be, to make everything feel like he did right this moment.

"Getting upset about it won't help anything," Obi-Wan started and he looked away from Anakin, out across the view from the windows lining the wall of his quarters. "And it's not what you seem to think it was."

"THEN TELL ME!"

Obi-Wan's spine was straight, his arms loosely held behind his back, but fingers curled inwards to match Anakin's own. He stepped forward to the window, the first jerking, harsh movement that broke even a little of the serenity he'd wrapped himself in.

Anakin knew, he _knew_ that he was making a mess of things, but there was no way out of this that he could see or feel, nothing was right and he could only try to break something, break that calm of his Master's until something _real_ happened and he didn't care if it was unfair of him, because this was so much worse!

"It wasn't physical. It wasn't even deliberately cruel," Obi-Wan said, his fingers uncurling and then folding back in again, the only movement to catch Anakin's eye. "It was simple but unending isolation. No contact with anyone while they negotiated with the Jedi for my release, no sunlight or nighttime, only food regularly delivered to tell the time. Nothing to pass the time, just simply me alone with my thoughts and the Force. Endlessly."

Now he glanced over at Anakin, a raw emotion in his face that arrested Anakin to the spot, horror and shame ripping through him all over again.

"You wouldn't have survived it, Anakin."

No! No, he wouldn't have. Only his thoughts to keep him company and the Force to connect him to any other living thing? Anakin would never have survived it, felt sick at just the thought.

He'd been so sure that nothing wrong had happened, but this was worse. He'd rather have been tortured, it would at least have let him know he was alive, that something _happened_ in the galaxy still.

And his Master had saved him from that.

Had saved him and still taken Anakin's anger for being saved.

Anakin's stomach threatened to recoil on him, what little of the nutrient bar Bant Eerin had managed to convince him to eat that moment sat poorly in him and bile rose in the back of his throat, tears blurring his vision, hot and prickling at him.

"Master, I...."

Obi-Wan's touch was gentle on his face again, hesitant and unsure, so unlike his Master that Anakin felt the tears slip over the edges and down his cheek.

"It was a very long time without anyone and if I seem unaffected by it," Obi-Wan's voice faintly shook and Anakin hated it, hated it so much, would have given anything to go back to when his Master had seemed the perfect Jedi, untouched by whatever had happened to him, "I am not. Anakin, I-- I missed you very much."

Finally a sob wrenched its way out of Anakin, tearing away so much of the storm inside him with it, and he leaned as far over as he dared, his forehead pressed against his Master's hip, desperate for the contact, desperate for _anything_ his Master would give him, after how he'd behaved.

Fingers wove their way into his hair, a light tremble to them that Anakin hated, but also welcomed. He wasn't alone, no matter how much he thought he was, and he'd been so ungrateful to think that he had been. He turned his face against the rough cloth of his Master's Jedi tunics, uncaring that they were painful against the raw skin under his eyes and across his cheeks, his hands curling into Obi-Wan's belt and terribly grateful when he wasn't pushed away.

"You've had a rough time of it as well, I know. Let it out, Anakin, it's all right."

He wasn't supposed to be this pathetic, he was supposed to be stronger than this, and he hated himself for how he wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan's waist when his Master stepped closer, and hated himself more for crying like a child. He hadn't even cried this hard when an actual child, he was worse now, lower than ever, and yet still couldn't stop a single one of the painful cries that tore out of him, couldn't hold back a single sob as he clutched at the one person in this galaxy who still loved him and would help him.

Obi-Wan endured it with renewed patience, let Anakin wear himself out against him, like an ocean storm crashing against the solid rock of the shore, his hand still petting Anakin's hair and telling him it was all right in soft, soothing tones.

When he quieted, everything ached and yet he still could not bring himself to let go, to even ease up his grip on Obi-Wan's tunics, his fingers wound tightly into the fabric. If he let go, some part of him said, his Master would _surely_ leave, would think that Anakin was fine now and that he didn't need him anymore. He couldn't stand the idea and so refused to lift his head from his Master's side, even when he should have.

"There you go," Obi-Wan's voice was still soft. Anakin reveled in it, the first soft thing he could remember in the last year. "That's better. Now, come on, you need to get cleaned up."

Anakin shook his head against Obi-Wan's hip. He couldn't bear to raise his face, what was surely a mess and still showed every bit of his cracked and broken soul, maybe the worst of it had been drained away, but that didn't mean there was anything _good_ suddenly there, he was just dregs and ragged scraps of what he should have been, he couldn't let Obi-Wan see how much worse he'd become since they'd been separated.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, his voice raw from his own emotional release, so much more than Anakin had ever seen before, but still so, so much less than Anakin's own. But also not a voice to be disobeyed. "We can't stay here forever, it's time to move."

He shook his head again and then Obi-Wan's hand was at the nape of his neck, knotting into a fist at the sensitive at his hairline, not hard enough to hurt, but forcing Anakin to tip his head back when Obi-Wan pulled. He had to be in ruins, he knew. Wet eyes and face, every bit of misery and suffering he'd experienced written across it plainly for anyone to see, much less someone who knew him so well. He was exposed and thrown open, everything there for Obi-Wan to see and realize how unworthy his student was.

Obi-Wan, who disentangled his arms and pulled him up to standing, who put a firm hand on his back and guided Anakin towards the bed he'd spent so many nights in, thinking of his Master, and another flush of shame washed over him, surely Obi-Wan knew what he'd done, how pathetic he'd been in missing his Master, who should have been his 'former Master' with Anakin's Knighting, but never would be, Anakin could bear even that small separation. How much of a burden Anakin must be even now and--

"Stop that, Anakin," Obi-Wan said firmly, but not unkindly, his presence in the Force warm and comforting, and Anakin wanted to press himself against it, wished desperately that he could grab it with both hands and hold onto it.

"It's difficult, I know. But I'm here and you needn't worry about it anymore." If Anakin had had anything left in him, he's certain he would have started crying again.

Instead, he let Obi-Wan guide him into shucking off his outer tunics, so that only the light shirt and small clothes remained, let himself be pushed onto the bed and waited, feeling scraped raw and sore, while Obi-Wan did the same, then slid into the bed beside him.

It was so easy to curl up against his Master, to press his face against his collar and hide away from the rest of the galaxy again, to let go of that feeling of failure--so, so much failure in _everything_ he tried to do and be--to let Obi-Wan clear it away, even how selfish he felt for taking and taking when it was his Master who had suffered something so terrible.

"I love you," Anakin told him, not meaning to, but the words wouldn't stay in him. He'd been denied them for so long, how could he possibly keep them back any longer? "I love you so much, I-- I love you, Master. I was so scared you wouldn't come back. Or that you would and-- And you'd-- you wouldn't--"

Obi-Wan shh'd at him quietly. "I will always want you, Anakin." He shifted them slightly, so Anakin's crown was under his chin, comfortingly tucked into the safest place he had ever been. "I missed you very much and I--" He swallowed hard and Anakin felt it along his temple. "I promised myself that, when I left that place, when I could see you and touch you again, that I would tell you that. You needed it more than I realized, before we were parted."

It hurt, everything in him hurt, in a way that felt clean, but also so painful. He could only imagine it, being kept away from everyone and everything, to not be able to touch another living thing, even if his Master loved meditation, a _year_ of unending disconnection, Anakin couldn't stand the thought of it, the reality must have been so much worse.

No matter how much it hurt, though, he wanted to hear it, wanted to not force Obi-Wan to hold it back for him, wanted desperately to not be a too heavy weight dragging his Master down into the depths with him.

That his Master, who never liked to say the words when a small gesture would do, a gesture that had never been enough for Anakin, and that was one more thing he'd failed so badly at, one more thing to hate himself for, but now his Master was saying these things to him and Anakin wanted to be stronger than this, wanted to be the Jedi he was supposed to be.

But he wasn't. He greedily soaked them in and held them as close as he could, still wanting even more. Still selfish and childish, even after all this.

"I'm fine, Master, I don't--"

Obi-Wan scoffed and something in Anakin lightened to hear it. That his Master still could make light of something so awful, yet even Anakin couldn't deny that he was giving his student something very real and true here.

"Well, I'm not fine, but I-- You should talk about it, that's supposed to help." It hadn't helped him, not until this moment, he'd tried talking about it, but it had never come out right, it had only made things worse, when everyone had misunderstood him, what was so _obvious_ and they'd all looked at him like they understood absolutely nothing, no matter how much he talked and explained. But this moment had helped, his Master always helped, when Anakin let him. It helped. "It's hard, but it helps."

"I think," Obi-Wan said and leaned back, tipping Anakin's head back to make them more even again, "I would rather help things in a different way."

Of course Anakin had imagined this as well, at least a thousand times. Mostly in the middle of the night, desperate to feel Obi-Wan again, his own hands on himself, in him and twisting to reach that one spot, no matter how deep he pushed or how hard he worked himself, it hadn't been enough.

He'd imagined every possible way they would reconnect when Obi-Wan was better, when he'd recovered from whatever he'd been through. But it was never like this, with Obi-Wan hardy and hale, yet hungry in a way that he'd never been before.

Or maybe, Anakin thought as Obi-Wan's eyes darkened and it felt right, finally that things had shifted back to where they were supposed to be, that maybe this was something else he'd never known, something that isolation had stripped away the hiding layers his Master had perfected, something else that had always been there that he should have seen.

"I want to help," Anakin answered. "If this is what will help--"

Obi-Wan stopped and looked directly at him, sharp and cutting. "Anakin. You do understand that not just anyone would do?"

The thought flashed across his mind, but then was gone, swept away by the weight in that gaze, Anakin filled with a hunger that he felt mirrored in Obi-Wan. Not for the same reason, no--Anakin desperately wanted reassurance and connection, Obi-Wan wanted to touch someone after so long, wanted to touch _him_ , but the hunger between them might as well have been a reflection for how they matched each other in scope and intensity.

"Yes," he breathed, wanting to say it a thousand times. Only the one flew from him before Obi-Wan's mouth was crashing down on him, hot and crushing, his tongue sliding across Anakin's lips before flickering inside. Anakin met him with equal fervor, his arms coming up around Obi-Wan again, pressing as close as he could, fingers scrabbling against Obi-Wan's back, trying to find any purchase they could, his hips tilting towards his Master's for any contact he could gain.

Obi-Wan groaned against him and the sound shivered through Anakin in the most enticing way. He wanted more, so much more than that, making hungry noises in the back of his own throat as he chased after every bit of his Master that he could reach.

"I thought about you every day," Obi-Wan confessed, as he tore himself away from Anakin's mouth and trailed hot kisses along the side of his neck, down to where it met his shoulder, and teeth closed over the skin there, not quite hard enough to break it. "Thought about how I would touch you and have you when I returned. Every thing I would do to you."

Anakin shivered again at the hunger in Obi-Wan's voice, so unlike his calm Master, and he was heady with it. He slid his hand into Obi-Wan's pants, wrapped around the stiffening cock there, stroked it with a closed fist, no finesse to it, just desperately wanting to encourage his Master on.

"Tell me," he whined as Obi-Wan traveled back up to bite at the shell of his ear, his hands now working their way into Anakin's small clothes, shoving them off with no more care than Anakin had used. Their erections caught against each other, Anakin fumbling for both of them, until he could wrap his fingers around both of them, the feeling exquisite, so much better than all those nights imagining this.

"Much better," Obi-Wan echoed, picking up the trailing thought Anakin had leaked into the Force. "So much better than only my hand or simple thoughts of you."

This time it was Anakin who groaned and pushed his hips harder against his Master's, his fingers almost too tight around their lengths together. He wanted-- wanted so much, much more.

The moment Obi-Wan's hands slid up his thighs, Anakin wanted to warn him that he was too close, that it had been too long and he wouldn't last, but he couldn't quite find the words, too high on the feeling of finally being touched again, of feeling how much Obi-Wan wanted him. And then Obi-Wan's hand was sliding between his legs and back, unerringly seeking his entrance and there was only time enough to rub against it in a handful of strokes before Anakin exploded in his own hand, his Master's cock still hard against him and grinding them together.

Obi-Wan kept at it right through Anakin's orgasm, fingertips just barely pressing into him, catching on the rim of his entrance as they moved back and forth. Kept kissing him through it, working their cocks together to wring every last bit of it from Anakin before finally slowing and pulling back to look at him.

Anakin flushed hot at the look, from embarrassment and desire both. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, looking down and then away, unable to stand seeing himself soft in his own hand, while his Master was still hard. "I didn't mean to-- not so early--"

Obi-Wan said nothing, but kissed him gently again. He pulled Anakin's leg up and hooked it over his own hip, let the spent erection lay softly against Anakin's stomach while his own slid lower, underneath the twin sacs there and back further, not trying to push in, but just content to lazily grind along the seam of him.

"it's all right, you're doing well." Obi-Wan kissed him again, then yet again. "I've thought of this moment long enough that I certainly can wait awhile longer."

Anakin whipped his head up. "No! Not after all-- all that! I can still go again, I--"

"Shh," Obi-Wan quieted him again. "You'll recover soon enough, then we'll go again."

Anakin searched his face, trying to find any hint of impatience or frustration, but found none. He wasn't sure he believed there truly was none to find, just that he couldn't see it.

Obi-Wan endured this scrutiny with no complaint, even though Anakin could feel the faint wisp of something like wanting to roll his eyes. But his Master never did that and Anakin wasn't sure if he just knew what to look for now or if Obi-Wan was being more open with him.

"As long as I can touch you, Anakin, I'm content to wait a few more minutes." He punctuated this with hiking Anakin's leg higher up his flank and rolling his hips so that the head of his cock slid right over Anakin's entrance again, hard and ready whenever Anakin was, too. "It's hardly a poor view in the meantime."

Anakin was a mess, he knew his hair was sweat dampened, his face was still red and raw from earlier, and he had no shields left to speak of, only Obi-Wan's presence kept him from broadcasting everything to the rest of the Temple and every Force-sensitive on Coruscant, he suspected.

"I'm not--" he mumbled.

"You are." Obi-Wan kissed him again and Anakin didn't care whether it was true or not, if Obi-Wan enjoyed seeing him this way, then that was enough. For once, the storm in him was quiet and it was enough. It didn't matter how long it would last, Anakin was at peace for now.

It was hard to believe, but Obi-Wan seemed content to bank his hunger for now, his touch no longer hurried or rough, that he enjoyed simply fingering Anakin open, a bottle of of slick still tucked away under the mattress from where Anakin had stashed it, all those times he'd tried to capture a fraction of what he felt right now and had failed every time. And Anakin soaked up every bit of it, he reveled in his Master's attention focused on him, the lazy kisses against his mouth, the easy pressure of fingers sliding into him and stretching him without burn or pain, the hard length that still moved slowly against the underside of him, everything focused on him, every iota of Obi-Wan's attention entirely his, his, his.

Anakin would have been ready long before they came together again, but he couldn't quite bring himself to tear away from it, he'd never felt so gently pried open and filled up with warmth and care. He'd never felt so scraped clean and then gently caressed into something better, certainly not in the last year and maybe not even before that.

He was almost grateful to the year that separated them if this was what he gained from it. And then felt the same old fire tear through him again, the heat of shame and horror at what he could think, that he could be so uncaring and--

And then Obi-Wan bit down on the side of his neck where he'd been laving at the skin there, sharp enough that Anakin couldn't tell if he'd broken through or not. "Focus, Anakin. Here and now."

"I'm sorry, Master, I'm so--"

"No apologies," Obi-Wan cut him off, tongue swiping over the stinging spot on his neck, his hips rolling up into Anakin with extra force to distract him. "Just stay with me here."

It was hard, he felt ashamed of himself, felt that familiar worthless failure beginning to consume him again, like acid poured over everything he tried to build, but Obi-Wan slid another finger into him--then another one and, oh, right there, Anakin felt sparks in his veins again, this time for an entirely new purpose--and there wasn't room for anything else any longer.

"Now," he whined, trying to grind down onto those fingers in him, four he thought, surely all four of them, he could still feel Obi-Wan's thumb rubbing along the rim of his hole. "Now, please, _please_ , fuck me, _please_."

Obi-Wan made a noise against his throat, having worked his way there now, and Anakin thought it was surely something he'd never heard from his Master before--something made out of pure _want_. It was the most wonderful thing he'd ever heard and he wanted it again, more than anything.

"Please, Master," he babbled, flung himself into it, wanting to hear Obi-Wan's voice again, hoping that it would provoke the same reaction. He whined when the fingers left him, tried to clamp down on them to show how desperately he wanted more. "Please, please, please, fuck me, _please_ \--"

He made eager little humming noises when Obi-Wan groaned against him again, that hunger that was definitely not Anakin's alone radiating off Obi-Wan in the Force. He easily rolled with his Master when Obi-Wan pushed him over, went with it when Obi-Wan hiked his legs higher and tilted Anakin's hips to the perfect angle.

"Stars, look at you," Obi-Wan murmured, his gaze riveted to the now hard and leaking cock resting against Anakin's stomach, traveling down to the slickness between his cheeks and the twitching ring of muscle there that he desperately wanted to be filled. "You're even more than I could have possibly remembered."

Anakin held these words close to his heart as well, memorized them and wrote them across his soul to keep always.

"Master, _please_ ," he said one more time and that was Obi-Wan's undoing, Anakin could see what little restraint there had collapsed and Obi-Wan's cock slid once over his entrance and then drove inside as quickly and surely as Obi-Wan could. It stole the breath from his lungs, pushed every other thought but those of his Master out of his head.

Anakin loved him, loved him, loved him, loved him so much that he was filled with it, had latched onto Obi-Wan Kenobi and would no longer be whole without him, could never be complete without him again.

He'd been cracked open and spilled all the awful things inside him everywhere, and Obi-Wan had gently cleared them away, had swept them off like they didn't matter, and found the good in him, had cared for him and returned Anakin's love.

The storm would still be there in the morning, not even the way Obi-Wan pulled nearly all the way out and thrust back inside, not even the way he groaned and clutched at Anakin's legs wrapped tightly around him, not even those things would quiet it forever.

But it was distant and couldn't touch him here, not while they established a rhythm that had Anakin lifting up into every thrust, his fingers clenched tightly in the sheets at his side, wishing he could touch himself, could work himself up and down in time with Obi-Wan's desperate, hard thrusts into him, could _show_ his Master how much he loved this, but he thought he might fly apart if he did anything more than this.

So instead he chanted over and over how much he loved Obi-Wan, how much he'd missed him, how much he wanted this, how much this was everything to him, how much he wanted more of it, wanted to say int his moment forever.

With every word out of him, Obi-Wan's thrusts grew less smooth, he scraped across that spot in Anakin that had him arching his back and making desperate whines, trying to get Obi-Wan right back there again. Even Obi-Wan's perfect hair had come out of place, falling down over his eye and his Master seemed to neither care nor notice and Anakin thrilled in it, in some distant part of him that wasn't filled up with his Master's length in him and his Master's love that spilled out between their bond, so much more open than it had ever been before.

And he never wanted it to end, would have stopped the flow of their climbing arousal if he could have, would have stayed this way forever, his Master moving inside him, so focused on nothing but Anakin, Anakin, Anakin.

But time rolled forward without his permission, their connection in the Force feeding the climbing pleasure between them, until Anakin couldn't take it anymore and he keened high and shameless as he was thrown over the edge, Obi-Wan's cock angled right for that spot inside him and relentlessly sliding over it again and again.

He came all over himself, hot and thick against his chest, his legs wrapping even tighter around Obi-Wan and his ass raised up to keep him in, his entranced clamped down as hard as he could in the throes of his orgasm.

Obi-Wan kept working him through it, his own orgasm not far behind, held back until Anakin's was over, and then it was with a handful more thrusts into him and Obi-Wan slumped over him, bowed forward and only his hand braced against the bed at Anakin's side that kept him from collapsing forward. His breath was ragged and he looked as wrung out as Anakin felt, but when he looked up, his eyes were bright and his mouth in a small smile.

"I missed you," he said. _I love you._ Anakin knew he meant. It was so clear in the Force that he couldn't even be angry that he didn't have the words to hold onto. He'd gained so many more than he ever had before, he was finally filled with them.

None of this was over, of course. For tonight they were satisfied, Anakin only whining faintly when Obi-Wan pulled out of him, wishing that he could convince his Master to simply stay in him all night, but not willing to ask such an uncomfortable position of his Master just for Anakin's selfish wants.

But tomorrow Obi-Wan would still have spent far too long away from another's touch and Anakin would need reassurances and touch anew. The thought made him turn over, heedless of the way his back ached from being angled up for so long, almost enjoying the way his ass ached from the desperate love making, a reminder of how much his Master had _needed_ him.

He didn't care that he was still filthy and maybe smiled a little--his first real smile since Obi-Wan had whirled him around and tossed him in the direction of the escape pods and then marched away from him--that Obi-Wan made a disgusted noise at the mess between them.

"This part I did not miss," Obi-Wan said and it was absolutely a lie, Anakin felt warmed by it and snuggled in closer, the come still sticky and wet on his chest now rubbing into Obi-Wan's skin as well.

"Of course you did," he said, just a little bit of cheek and cockiness coming back to him. And it was worth it, to dare to take that risk, not sure he deserved it, when Obi-Wan's expression lightened and he looked at Anakin with such fondness and affection that he wanted to cry again, this time from something so much better.

"I love you," Anakin blurted out again. "So much I'd die without you."

Obi-Wan leaned in to kiss him, all the sting taken out of his words with such a soft press of lips against his. "You would survive it. But I'm glad that you don't have to."

Anakin felt ready to burst at the seams and couldn't even reply, the words stuck in his throat and wouldn't come out, now that he needed them. But his Master understood and merely tucked the two of them closer together.

"Sleep, Anakin. We both need it."

And that was _all_ they were in need of, Anakin thought, settling into a comfortable sleep haze for the first time in a year. It was all that was missing now that they were back together again.


End file.
